Page 37 of Backstage

I open the door slightly, listening for noises. I don’t hear anybody. I assume they’re all at the gym.

I crawl out of bed reluctantly and get in the shower. I spend an eternity there, first with cold water, trying to calm the burning spirits without success, then under the jet of hot water, letting my fantasies run wild and relieving myself thinking about slipping between Lilly’s thighs. I’m going to hell, I already know it. If I keep wanting her this way, they’ll give me a fast track with my name written on it.

Yesterday we were traveling all day. We didn’t get a chance to see much of each other alone, just with people around us. Today, however, I absolutely must catch her alone, ask her forgiveness, talk to her, and tell her that I behaved like an asshole. She deserves an apology.

I get dressed, my hair still wet. I put on a pair of shoes and step off the bus to go to hers, hoping to find Lilly alone. I’m freezing as soon as I put my nose out, always forgetting how hot our rooms can be. I knock on their door and pray someone will come and open it quickly.

“Come in,” I hear her shout from inside. I open the door, go in, and take off my shoes before I enter.

I step inside their bus, and become paralyzed. Lilly is reaching on tiptoe towards one of the kitchen cabinets, her hand near the top shelf. That’s not what’s bothering me, though. It’s that she’s wearing a pair of tight blue boxer shorts that show half of her lower butt cheeks, and a worn-out, loose white tank top with no bra. All the blood flows below my waistband, waking up Junior, who I managed to put to sleep in the shower. Here he is, perky as ever, waiting for me to rip her shorts off and spread her legs.

“Can I help you?” I ask her in a husky voice.

Lilly turns to me and smiles. With that messy bun of hair on her head and those glasses, she’s even prettier than I remember. And I swear I’ve recalled her many, many, many times in the last few hours.

“Would you get me the Froot Loops up there? I can’t reach it. Sometimes being the dwarf of the group is torture.” She has a pouty, sexy mouth.

I move behind her, grab her by the waist, and scoot her sideways, avoiding putting my boner on her ass first thing in the morning. I take the box and hand it to her.

“Have you had breakfast?”

I smile at her and shake my head. She shakes the cereal box in front of me with a questioning look.

“Okay.” I don’t tell her that I usually just drink black, hot, bitter coffee in the morning and that milk and cereal suck because they form a mush on the bottom of the bowl that makes me want to puke.

Lilly takes two cups, pours cereal into them, then milk, brings them to the table, and places them on one side of the table. She puts one foot under her butt while she sits down, and I sit next to her, handing her one of the two spoons I took from the kitchen drawer. I swallow the first bite, and I have to admit it’s not so bad. Maybe the memory I had as a child isn’t accurate enough to influence my judgment right now. Or perhaps she’s fucking with my brain, making me do stupid things like eat cereal and enjoy it. I try several times to come up with an apology for the other night, but I can’t find a decent one. I look at her, and she doesn’t seem angry. She looks happy to be here having breakfast with me. I decide to put the excuses aside, at least for the time being. Second stupid thing I’ve done this morning.

“Do you have any idea how many calories this cereal contains? It’s not like you have to kill yourself in the gym to eat it, is it? Although I haven’t seen you work out like crazy the last few days, if I’m honest.” I’m not sure it’s the right thing to say. I noticed that food is always a delicate subject between her and her bandmates.

Lilly blushes slightly and looks into her bowl. “You were right. Being on tour takes my energy away, and just having all this pressure on me is tiring. I can’t risk passing out on stage because I’m not eating right,” she admits with a hint of reluctance in her voice.

“Hang on. Repeat what you said,” I say, while taking the phone out of my pocket.

She looks at me, bewildered. “I said being on tour takes my energy away.”

“No, not that part,” I interrupt her. “The part where you tell me I’m right,” I say with a smug smile when I see her blushing. I love it when she reacts like this to my jokes.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m not leaving here until you say so.” That’s a promise.

“You were right. Are you happy now?” She rolls her eyes.

I smile smugly and put the phone back in my pocket. “I’ll set it as my ring tone for when you call me.” I wink at her, and she punches me in the shoulder.

“So, are you ready for tonight?” I ask her.

Lilly looks up at me and smiles. “Trying not to think about it. If I start to realize that it’s only a few hours away, I get anxious. This isn’t small clubs in New York anymore. This is twenty thousand plus people. It’s impossible to be indifferent to something like that. I’ll probably go crazy with excitement during the soundcheck, but I should be more or less normal for the show,” she says with a hint of conviction, but her eyes are grainy with fear.

I confess I’m a little worried about her. This is a big leap, moving from amateur to professional.

“You know you can come to me if you need to talk, right?” I ask her. I don’t want to bring up that asshole Brad right now, even if he is the one that got her in this state.

She nods as a knock on the door calls our attention.

“Come in,” she yells again. “Is it always busy like this?” she asks me with a smile.

I smile as I sink my spoon back into the cereal bowl and bring it to my mouth. I see Michael, Thomas, and Simon, with their hair still wet from the shower and smiling, appear at the door.

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